


Unrequited Rivalry

by exclamation



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crush, Galaxy Garrison, Hunk throws up a lot, Lance is the worst pilot ever, M/M, Pre-Series, Pre-Slash, Rivalry, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited rivalry, oblivious keith, simulator crashes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9942752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exclamation/pseuds/exclamation
Summary: Lance had a crush on Keith from the first moment he saw him, but Keith only ignores Lance's attempts to get to know him. The more time passes, the more that crush changes to anger and annoyance, but Lance is still determined to get Keith's attention. The best way to do that, he decides, it's to demonstrate that he's the better pilot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'm going to do anything more on this fic, so I've marked it as complete. I might come back to this verse, but at the moment I'll leave it as it stands. This is a pre-series story showing snippets of Lance's time at the Galaxy Garrison, especially around his encounters with Keith. 
> 
> It doesn't really have a plot and, because it ends pre-series, it doesn't have a happy ending either. It also has multiple references to Hunk throwing up. Continue at your own risk.

Lance didn't see the point in hiding it when he was attracted to someone. His logic was that life was short and he was never going to have a shot with someone unless he made his feelings perfectly clear. The direct approach let him show his intentions without any doubt and then learn what feelings were felt in response. It was an approach that had served him well most of the time and earned him a reputation as a shameless flirt. 

When he was introduced to the new classmates at the Garrison, he took his time weighing up potential options. There were three targets he had his sights on: a pretty, Asian girl, a blond girl who looked like she should be a Swedish supermodel, and a dark-haired guy who looked like attending the getting-to-know-each-other lunch was a form of torture. Statistically speaking, the girls were more likely to be interested in a guy than the other guy was, so Lance played the odds and decided to start with the supermodel. He picked up two glasses from the buffet table and headed over, offering her a drink. 

She thanked him politely and asked the standard questions about his name, where he came from, and which class he was enrolled in. They talked for about five minutes before Lance suggested they go somewhere quieter to get to know each other better. 

"That would defeat the point," she said. "We are supposed to be meeting all our classmates." 

"Maybe later then. We could get to know each other over dinner?" 

"A date?" 

"If you're offering," Lance said with a grin. She looked unimpressed. 

"I am here to be an engineer," she said, "not to date." 

"You can do both." 

"No. I am not interested." 

"Spend one dinner with me and I promise you'll be interested," Lance said. 

The supermodel looked at him sternly. "I said no. If you have difficulty understanding, I'm certain one of the students on the communications track will be able to help you with a translation." 

There was a laugh from a big guy who'd apparently overheard the whole exchange. The big guy took one hand from his overflowing plate and offered it to the girl for a high-five. "Nice burn." 

Lance glared at the big guy as the supermodel accepted the high-five and then wandered away to find someone else to talk to. The big guy went back to eating the finger sandwiches from the buffet. 

"I'm just getting warmed up," Lance told him. He looked around for the next target. The Asian girl was laughing with a trio of other cadets across the room but the dark-haired guy was on his own, not talking to anyone. That was perfect. Lance decided to skip the drink this time and just walked over the guy and flashed his most winning smile. 

"Hi," he said. "I'm..." 

The dark-haired guy turned and walked towards the door. 

"Lance," he finished weakly, watching the guy head out of the room and away from the get-to-know-you party. 

The big guy laughed again and clapped a hand on Lance's shoulder. "Twice in two minutes? Hard luck." 

That guy hadn't even let him finish saying hello. Who walked away like that? It was just rude and that was unacceptable. He hadn't even given Lance a chance to see what he was like, just dismissed him at a glance and that was so shallow. Lance wasn't going to let that stand. He was going to show that guy what he was like and win him over. 

"He'll come around," Lance said. 

"If you say so," said the big guy. "I'm Hunk by the way." 

"Lance." 

"Nice to meet you. You should drown your sorrows in these crab claw things. They're delicious." 

***

Lance found out that the dark-haired guy was called Keith and that he was in the same pilot's class. Lance saw the guy sitting at a desk in the back when he went into the introductory aerodynamics class the following morning. He was scrolling through something on his tablet, so Lance went over to take the desk next to him. He sat down and flashed a smile in the guy's direction, but the guy didn't look up from his tablet to see it, really was really a waste of a perfectly good winning smile. Lance looked at the tablet screen to see what was keeping this guy so enthralled and just saw paragraphs of dense text. 

"So," Lance tried, "what are you reading?" 

The guy didn't even reply. How rude could he get? 

"Is it a good book?" Lance asked. 

It must have been because the guy didn't bother tearing his eyes from the screen. 

"Right. Obviously. Maybe we could start a book club or something, share recommendations?" 

Not so much as a grunt of acknowledgement from the guy. 

A message popped up on the tablet screen, a reminder alert for the start of the class. The guy finally looked up from the screen, but it wasn't to pay attention to Lance. He looked up at the classroom door as the instructor walked in. The cadets got to their feet and saluted as they'd been instructed and the instructor looked along the lines of students. 

"Welcome, cadets. I am Lieutenant Maylon and I will be teaching you introductory aerodynamics. Let's start with a little quiz to see how much you know. When was the first wind tunnel built?" 

Around the room, a few hands were raised, including the guy next to Lance. Maylon gestured to a girl near the front. 

"State your full name and then give your answer." 

"Cadet Katherine Wingright, sir. The answer is 1871." 

"Correct. You may sit down." 

The questions continued. Each cadet who answered a question was allowed to take their seat. The guy next to Lance had his hand raised for every question, and was finally called on to answer when he was the only one to raise his hand in answer to, "What is the speed below which air compressibility is not a significant factor in aerodynamic design?" 

"Cadet Keith Kogane," the guy answered, "and the answer is 220 miles per hour or 354 kilometres per hour." 

"Correct. Take your seat." 

Lance was beginning to get worried now. He'd only been able to raise his hand twice so far and both times Maylon had called on someone else to answer. He was one of only four students still standing and the questions didn't seem to be getting any easy. The next three questions came and he was forced to stand with his hands at his side. He was tempted to raise his hand just to make it look like he knew the answers but he knew that he'd be ruined if Maylon actually called on him. At last, he was the only cadet on his feet. Maylon gave him a smile. 

"Alright, one last question. Which planet in our solar system has the highest surface pressure?" 

Lance considered the question. Surface pressure was related to the amount of gas in the atmosphere so there was only one answer that made sense. 

"Jupiter," he answered. There was a snort of laughter from Keith. 

"Incorrect," Maylon said. "Cadet Kogane, you seem to think you know the correct answer. Please enlighten the class." 

"Jupiter is a gas giant. It doesn't have a surface so the question isn't applicable. The planet with the highest surface pressure is Venus with a pressure of 92 bars." 

"Correct." Maylon looked back at Lance. "Cadet, you may sit down." 

Lance sank into his seat, humiliated and angry. He would have been able to answer correctly if Maylon had called on him for one of the earlier questions when he'd actually raised his hand. This quiz wasn't a good way to judge knowledge and it was just a way to pick on students. And what was the point of doing something like this before they'd even started their lessons? 

Lance glared at Maylon as the lesson started, but he glanced sideways and glared at Keith from time to time as well. He'd deliberately done that to make Lance look bad. He was such a show off. 

At the end of class, they made their way to the next lesson, which was an introduction on the operating of the simulator that they'd be using later in the semester. Lance decided to give this one last chance. He walked at Keith's side and tried smiling at him again. He'd ease into things with a complement and see if that made the conversation go smoother. 

"You seemed pretty knowledgeable back there. You raised your hand for basically every question." 

"I read the introductory material," Keith said. At least he was actually talking to Lance this time. 

"Yeah, but you must be pretty smart. Look, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out some time." 

"I'm not interested in tutoring anyone," Keith said. He quickened his pace to leave Lance floundering and furious in the middle of the hallway. Tutor? Lance wasn't asking about tutoring. Was Keith implying he was dumb? Was he saying that Lance needed help? Lance glared at Keith's retreating back and decided to prove that. He'd show Keith that he was just as smart as he was. Then Keith would have to apologise for how rude he'd been and Lance would let him take him out to dinner to make up for it. By dessert, Keith would admit that he'd been wrong to treat Lance like this and they would be ready to make out by the journey back to the Garrison. 

All Lance had to do was show his skill. 

***

Lance groaned aloud and beat his forehead against the mound of textbooks in front of him. 

"Careful with those," Hunk said, rescuing one book before its pages got too badly crumpled. 

"Ugh," Lance said. He sat up and stared back at the worksheet he was supposed to be going through. "Why do we have to do all this theoretical stuff? Surely all that matters is how well I fly, not whether I know all this meteorological mumbo jumbo." 

"Well, you need to be able to predict what the weather patterns will do to the air currents so you know how they'll affect your flying," Hunk pointed out. Lance wanted to throw a book at him, but mostly because he was probably right. Lance's eyes were starting to blur from trying to remember the different cloud formations and their implications. He was never going to memorise all this and he had a test tomorrow. He needed to get a better score than Keith to prove how smart he was and that wasn't going to be easy because Keith had got the best marks in the class in the last five tests they'd been set. 

"What really matters is how we actually fly," Lance said, "and I fly by instinct. I feel the craft and just react." 

"Uh huh," said Hunk. "Have you ever actually flown?" 

"Only a couple of computer-based simulations in prep for coming here, but that's only because they won't let us in the real simulator yet and that's ridiculous. We won't actually learn what it's really like to fly until we're fully immersed in it. They should let us in the simulator on day one. Then I'd show them how awesome I am." 

"Uh huh," Hunk said again, but Lance got the feeling he was just humouring him. 

"I will be great in the simulator. You'll see." 

But first he had to pass the preliminary theory tests. Lance forced his eyes onto the pages and tried to focus. Why did this have to be so hard? 

He was glad of the distraction when the library door opened. He looked up and saw Keith walk in. That was hardly surprising. The guy seemed to live either in the library or the gym. He didn't have any friends, and it was no wonder with how rude he was. Really he ought to be grateful that Lance was still making an effort with him. 

Keith started towards the shelves of books, past the table where Lance and Hunk were sitting with their work. 

"Hey, Keith," Lance said, "you ready for this meteorological test we've got tomorrow? I've got the last copy of the book on instrumentation but you're welcome to share it." That would show him. Keith would see how generous Lance was and this would finally win him over. 

"Nah, I prepped for test already," Keith said. He walked past with barely a glance in their direction then he was lost somewhere in the stacks. Lance glared after him. 

"That guy is really starting to get on my nerves," Lance said. "I try to be nice to him, I try and invite him to sit with us at lunch, I try and help him out with his studies, but he just brushes me off." 

"I don't know why you're still bothered about him," Hunk said. "So he brushed you off. So what? You're not this worked up about Lovisa." 

"Who?" Lance asked. 

"The engineering cadet who turned you down at the welcome party." 

"Oh. Right." Lance had almost forgotten her. He wasn't sure he'd ever learned her name. He shrugged. "It's not about Keith brushing me off, it's about how rude he's being. He acts so high and mighty, like he's better than all the rest of us, but I'll prove him wrong. I'll show him that I'm just as good as he is. You wait and see." 

***

Lance grinned when he saw his test result come back for the final one of the pre-simulator tests. This one had been about the shuttle controls themselves. They had been given a diagram of all the control consoles in the shuttle, both for the pilot and for the other members of the team, and had been expected to label each switch and button and readout, explaining what each one was meant to do. Lance had only lost marks for three on the pilot's dashboard, and he'd got over ninety percent on the comms officer and engineering controls as well, thanks to Hunk helping him stay up half the night memorising every little detail. There were so many things to remember and he was really proud of this score, which had to be the best he'd received in any test at the Garrison. 

He looked over to a couple of the others in the class and saw that they'd done nearly as well as him at the pilot's console, which was where they spent most of their attention in class, but they'd barely got half of the answers correct for the other consoles. This was Lance's moment to shine, to show Keith that he could beat him. 

Lance went to the desk near the back of the room, next to where Keith was sitting already. Lance tried not to sound too smug as he asked, "So what was your score?" 

"A hundred percent," Keith answered. 

Lance wasn't going to let that get in the way of his triumph. "On the pilot's console, right? What did you get on the other two?" 

Keith looked at him like he was an idiot. "A hundred percent." 

Lance couldn't quite believe this. "You got a hundred percent on all three of the consoles?" 

"Yes." 

"How?" 

"I studied." Keith said it like it was obvious, but Lance had studied too. He'd studied his ass off and he'd only managed ninety two and ninety five percent on the other two consoles. He'd been so pleased with himself for that score, so sure that he'd finally beaten Keith, only to find out he hadn't. 

It wasn't possible Keith could have done that well. Either he'd cheated in the test or he was just lying, trying to make himself seem more important. In fact, that was probably it. Lance always asked Keith about his scores and so it would be really easy for Keith to pretend he'd done better than he really had. That made so much sense. Keith was obviously intimidated by Lance. He saw how hard Lance was working, saw how well he was doing, and had to pretend to be doing better because he felt threatened. 

Keith wasn't brushing Lance off because he looked down on him but because he was afraid that Lance might see what he was up to and do better than him. Lance felt so much better about things now he understood this. He and Keith weren't potential partners. They were rivals. 

Well, Lance could cope with that. He would continue working his ass off and show Keith that he was worthy of being his rival, demonstrate that they were equals. And it would start by showing everyone what he was capable of when they had their first shot in the simulator. 

***

The first simulator run was a simple one, designed to let them get a feel for the controls. This semester, they were only doing solo exercises, with each class taking a turn using the simulator while the other two roles were handled by the computer. The first lesson was a simple zero-G course. Each cadet was supposed to fly the shuttle around a course marked by beacons. They didn't have to worry about atmosphere or gravity or obstacles or anything except the ship and the course markers, but where was the challenge in that? How was Lance supposed to showcase his skills if he was expected to complete an exercise so rudimentary? 

The only way to show anything was to complete the course faster than the other cadets. He watched the displays from the outside as Keith flew the shuttle in a steady execution of the course, passing each of the markers and then adjusting his course for the next one. He flew in a way that seemed almost bored. 

If Lance wanted to complete the course faster, he would have to increase the velocity and then adjust his course more abruptly, but that wouldn't be a problem. He could also come closer to the course markers to reduce the distance. He watched the next few cadets complete the course, trying to memorise the sequence of manoeuvres, and planning the whole thing out in his head. 

Then it was his turn behind the controls. It was so different from manipulating icons on a computer screen but he was ready for this. He was ready to show them his skills. As the simulation started, he hit the engines with full power and accelerated rapidly towards the first marker. Just as he reached the marker, he fired the starboard thrusters, not reducing the power to the main engines at all. The shuttle was still accelerating as it changed direction slightly to go for the next marker. Good. He needed to blow all the other times out of the water. He needed to stand out. 

He miscalculated the fifth turn, which required him to almost double back on himself, and the shuttle's momentum carried him much further forward than he'd intended. He had to burn the thruster's to change direction and then blast the main engine back into full to slow down and then reverse direction. That had wasted precious time, but he still thought he was ahead of all the other cadets. He managed to get through the next series of adjustments a lot more smoothly, but he was still running on full power to make up for that earlier blunder. He approached the final marker, angling the shuttle to come as close as possible to the marker to give him the shortest possible route. He over adjusted though, his ship aiming straight for the course marker. He pressed his fingers to the thruster controls to nudge his course slightly to the side, but the thruster didn't fire. 

A moment later, the main engine cut out. He looked down at his display, looking for the error, wondering what instructor would be so cruel as to throw a mechanical failure into what was supposed to be the most basic practice to get them used to the simulator. 

A red warning light was flashing, and probably had been for the last few course changes, indicating that he was running out of fuel. He'd been burning the engines on full for basically the whole course and using the thrusters wildly to change direction against the shuttle's momentum. Now he had nothing left. He looked back up at the view screen as the final course marker loomed right in front of him. He had nothing left to manoeuvre with and the shuttle flew directly into the marker. 

Lance swore under his breath as the lights on the console went out and a computerised voice announced, "Simulation failed." 

Lance had to climb out of the simulator and into the watching eyes of the rest of the class, not to mention the instructor. He saw smirks and grins, all at his expense. He'd wanted to make an impression and he had. He had managed to crash the simulator in its most basic of programs. The instructors would probably be using this as a cautionary tale for their future classes for years to come. 

"I don't feel well," Lance said to the instructor, before he could hear a word about his abysmal performance, and he left. He didn't wait to be dismissed. He just needed to get out of there before he did something like break down in tears in front of the entire class. Hopefully if they thought he was ill, some of them might consider that a valid excuse for how he'd flown. 

He shut himself in a cubical in the bathroom and buried his head in his hands. He'd wanted to show off his skills. He'd wanted to prove how good he could be, but all he'd done was become a laughingstock for the entire Garrison. Why hadn't he just done the course properly like everyone else? Why did he always have to show off? It was no wonder Keith ignored him. 

***

Lance paced anxiously around the hall, waiting for the scores to be posted for the final exams. He'd studied like crazy for those tests, hoping that the scores would pull up his appalling grades from the simulator programs. He was sure he'd done well enough on average not to be booted off the program altogether, but what mattered was whether he'd made it onto the fighter track. Keith was going to be fighter class for sure, so the only way for Lance to prove his worth against him was to make sure he was on fighter track too. If he got put on the track to become a cargo pilot, he might as well just give up and go home. Only a third of the class would make it through to that track and Lance knew that most of them wanted it as much as he did. He wasn't the only one who had worked like crazy for the final exams but he was the only who had the black mark on his record for failing the simulator's easiest program. 

Around him, the other cadets waited, all anxiously watching the board where the scores would be posted. Beside Lance, Hunk waited for the scores of his engineering assessment, though Lance was sure he had nothing to worry about. He still looked as nervous as Lance felt. 

"I think I'm going to throw up," Hunk said. 

Lance shot him a look, "How do you manage in the simulator?" 

"I don't. We did a simulation of landing in heavy turbulence and I ended up with pasta carbonara all over my instruments." 

"Gross. Remind me not to get teamed up with you for simulator sessions next semester." 

"Assuming either of us makes it through to next semester," Hunk said. 

"What are you worried about? Didn't your electrical engineering instructor call that solar-powered oven thing you made a work of genius?" 

"Yeah, but Iverson said I had the same aptitude for spaceflight that a paralytic sea urchin has for running a marathon. I thought that was mean." 

"Was this after you threw up carbonara?" 

"No, this was after I threw up lentil soup. That was even worse." 

Lance secretly wondered if Iverson had a point about Hunk, but he wasn't going to be mean enough to say it, especially since he knew people thought that about him. There were enough people who didn't think Lance belonged here that Hunk was not going to suggest his one friend in this whole place didn't belong. 

That was the moment when the board came to live and the hoard of cadets pressed around, trying to see their names. Lance was blocked by a crowd of other students, forced to watch as those near the front celebrated and grinned, or slunk away with distress or resignation on their faces. At last, Lance was able to make it to the front. He scanned down the list of pilot cadets for his name. The exam scores were there next to his name, and the final result of the semester. 

"Yes!" said Hunk beside him. "I made it! How did you do?" 

Hunk looked from the board to Lance's face, reading the reaction there. He turned back to the board and looked where Lance was still looking, at the two words that summed up Lance's fate. Cargo pilot. 

***

"Look at it this way," Hunk said, "at least you made it through." 

"But as a cargo pilot!" Lance was lying on his bed in the barracks, staring up at the ceiling while Hunk sat on the bed next to his. They were the only two in the room right now and he was glad. He didn't want anyone else to see him like this. 

"A cargo pilot isn't so bad. You'll still be a pilot." 

"Yeah, flying boring missions delivering stuff between bases or up to the space station. I won't ever get to explore. I want to see the galaxy. That's why I joined up, for adventure." 

"And this has nothing to do with you wanting to beat Keith." 

If Lance had any energy, he'd throw his pillow at Hunk. He didn't want to hear that name. He'd looked at the list and seen the scores next to Keith's name, seen the classification as fighter pilot. Keith would be in the top class, with the best cadets, learning to fly shuttles in dangerous situations, preparing for missions out across the solar system. He would be flying down into the gas giants on exploratory missions, launching satellites into orbit around Venus, and drilling down into Europa's frozen oceans. Lance would be transporting freeze dried vegetables up to Garrison scientists working on the research station. 

It wasn't fair. Lance worked just as hard as Keith did, but Keith was the one who got all the glory. He was the one the instructors praised. He was the one who got the best score in the class on the asteroid field simulation, coming within a few points of beating the record set by Takashi Shirogane a few years earlier when he was at the Garrison. Lance had studied the records of Shiro's run at that simulation for a week before they'd done it themselves, hoping to finally let his abilities shine, and he'd still managed to get his spacecraft crushed between two colliding asteroids within five minutes of the simulation starting. 

Lance was convinced that simulator was cursed, or just had a grudge against him, because all the random incidents that were supposed to make simulations less predictable seemed to happen when he was at the controls. 

"Maybe you could do a retake or something," Hunk suggested. "There's got to be an instructor around here that likes you. Maybe they'd let you have another shot at one of the simulations you flunked to try and get a better score." 

"It's worth a shot," Lance said, because right now he had absolutely nothing to lose. Even if the instructor's decided to kick him out of the Garrison altogether, it would be better than the humiliation of having to come back next semester on the cargo pilot track. But who to ask? He definitely wasn't going to ask Iverson, who hated everyone in general and him in particular. Iverson probably still hated him for the time he'd asked all those questions about Shiro's pilot records, trying to learn from the best to improve his scores. Iverson had been really touchy about the subject for some reason and threatened to expel Lance if he said another word about it. 

Lance decided his best shot was Lieutenant Maylon who was slightly more easy-going than most of the other instructors. He didn't particularly like Lance, but he didn't detest him either and that was good enough for now. Lance climbed from the bed, made sure his uniform was presentable, and went in search of this least hostile teacher. 

***

Maylon was in his office and didn't seem at all upset to find Lance at his door. 

"Shouldn't you be packing up to go home?" Maylon asked as he let Lance inside. 

"I wanted to talk to you about next semester," Lance said. 

"What about it?" 

"Well, I'm down to be on the cargo pilot track and I know that it's because I did really badly in some of the simulator runs because I was trying to show off. I was hoping I could take another shot at some of them to get my score better." 

"The scores are already in for this semester. It wouldn't be fair to the other cadets to change them now." Maylon sounded sympathetic but that wasn't enough. He wasn't going to help him. 

"I tried so hard," Lance said. 

"So did a lot of people. I know it's not easy to hear this, cadet, but the point of the different tracks is to let everyone study at the level that's right for them. Don't think of it as a failure. It's about finding the right place for you." 

"But I want so badly to be a fighter pilot. I worked for this. I studied all of Takashi Shirogane's pilot records to try and get a feel for how he'd fly so I could be more like him. I know I screwed up on some of the simulations but I know I can do better. I just want a chance to prove it." 

Maylon didn't say anything for a long time. He was probably trying to think of a way to get Lance out of his study that wouldn't result in Lance breaking down in tears. Lance wasn't sure there was one right now. He'd pinned his final hope on this and the instructors weren't going to let him try the simulator again because then all the cadets would want another go and it would be chaos. Lance would be forced to resign himself to failure. 

"Look," Maylon said, "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but one of the fighter class cadets has had to leave the Garrison. I may be able to convince Iverson to move someone from the cargo class up." 

"Really?" Lance's face split into a grin. 

"I'm not making any promises, and even if Iverson agrees he might choose one of the cadets who's less prone to crashing, but I'll talk to him." 

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I won't let you down." 

"You'd better not. If you get this second chance, you'd better put the work in and earn it." 

"I will. I promise, I will." 

"Very well then. You're dismissed, cadet." 

***

Lance was grinning as he walked into the first pilot class of the new semester. He couldn't wait to see Keith's face when he realised Lance was here. They would be rivals once again, ready to go neck and neck. This semester was a fresh start and Lance was determined not to be disheartened by a few catastrophic crashes in the previous semester. He was going to wipe the slate clean and start again. He would come out with top marks and show everyone. He'd prove to Maylon that he deserved this shot, shove his success up Iverson's ass, and, most importantly, make Keith realise just how good he was. He'd make Keith regret ever ignoring him. 

But there was something missing. Lance looked around at the cadets filling the room, familiar faces from last semester. One face and one distinctive hair style was missing. 

Lance leaned over to the girl next to him and asked, "Hey. Do you know where Keith is?" 

"You didn't hear? He got kicked out at the end of last semester. That's why there was a spare spot in this class." 

"He's gone?" Lance asked. He didn't know how to feel about this. He ought to be delighted that he didn't have to put up with that smug asshole with his superior attitude, but he felt disappointed too. He'd been looking forward to rubbing Keith's face in his greatness when he finally got better scores than him in a flight simulation. There wouldn't be nearly so much triumph in it if Keith wasn't here to beat. 

"Discipline issue, someone said," the girl continued. 

A guy in front of them turned round and added, "I heard he punched Iverson." 

"What?" Lance asked. "Why would he do that?" 

"I dunno. Someone said Iverson was insulting some pilot that had killed his team in a crash and Keith just lost it. That's dude's whacked." 

Lance didn't know what to say to that. He hoped that they were wrong and that Keith was just running late, but the desks in the classroom were filling up and Keith was nowhere in sight whereas before he'd always been the first one here, reading the course material through before the class just so he could show off and pretend he knew it all. 

What was Lance supposed to do now? He could show he was better than Keith by actually passing the course and not getting expelled, but there wasn't nearly so much satisfaction in that if Keith wasn't here to see it. As the instructor came in to start the class, Lance knew he had to resign himself to the fact he'd probably never see Keith again.


End file.
